


Count the Stars

by Quicksilver_ink



Category: Chrono Trigger
Genre: Astronomy, Gen, SCIENCE!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:56:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilver_ink/pseuds/Quicksilver_ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucca's determination to learn science stemmed from her mother's accident. But her love of learning has been cultivated throughout her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. December 16, 987 AD

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stealth_Noodle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stealth_Noodle/gifts).



The small stack of brightly-wrapped packages had dwindled, the colorful paper and shiny bows that had adorned gifts now crumpled and scattered.  The toys and storybooks they’d contained were neatly arranged near the wall. She’d taken a break to play with the new tricycle, pedaling around the room while her dad made jokes about Mach speeds and her mom told her to watch out for the table, but eventually the possibilities of the remaining packages had been too much of a lure.

 

“Here’s the last one, Lucca.” Dad was smiling as he handed her a blue-and-gold package. It was thin and rectangular. “Can you guess what it is?”

 

“It’s a giraffe,” she said, giggling because it obviously wasn’t. (One of the toys she’d gotten was a plastic version of the long-necked animal. That present’s odd shape had mystified her until she’d opened it.) 

 

“Someone’s had too much birthday cake,” Mommy murmured. 

 

Lucca ran out of giggles and righted herself eventually. “It’s a book, really, because it’s a rectangle,” she told them to make sure they knew she’d known all along. She tore off the wrapping paper and held it up. “See! A book!”

 

“What’s the title?” her father asked.

 

Lucca turned the book over in her hands. The first word was her name, but the second she  needed to sound out. “Lucca’s Laboratory Notebook.” That was strange. There wasn’t any picture on the front, either. She flipped open, but there were no pictures inside, either. Or words. Just a bunch of blank pages. It looked a lot like the blank books Daddy used when he was doing Inventing. She’d borrowed one once to write a book, saying the words aloud as she scribbled with crayon. It had been disappointing, though, because the crayon markings never turned into words she could read later on, after she’d forgotten things. “It’s not a storybook,” she said, uncertain and a little confused.

 

“You’re going to write the story, Lucca,” her mother said, and then explained about  experiments and  hypotheses , and how everything started from asking a question. 

  
 

* * *

 

That night her parents woke her up when it was dark out and had her get dressed again. It was confusing until they explained. Lucca ran through the house behind her mother with a flashlight, as her parents shut off all the lights that could be seen from the outside. It was a little scary, walking through the house in the dark -- familiar shapes of tables and chairs seemed to loom like monsters -- but she forgot it all once they went outside and stood away from the house.

The sky was full of stars, more than she could remember having ever seen before. The longer she looked the more there were, peeking out in the spaces between other stars.

“Pick me up,” she told her father, but even once she sat on his shoulders the stars were still tiny and out of reach. She stretched  her hands as far as she could, trying to grap the glowing ribbon of light that her father called the Milky Way even though it didn’t look like the stuff you drink at all.

“And you know, Lucca? They’re all just like the sun.”

That didn’t make any sense. “They’re not the sun!” Lucca informed her mother. “They’re stars. The sun is big and you don't look at it and it comes in the day. They’re different. They're small and it's night.”

“They look small because they’re far away,” her father said with a laugh. “Like how our island looks tiny from the mainland. But they really are just like the sun. Some of them have their own Earth, too. Maybe even their own people.”

That much seemed right to Lucca. She still couldn’t understand how there could be suns out at night, but if they were all just like the sun, they should have Earth, too. And on each of them there was a Lucca and a mommy and a daddy, looking up at all of them.

“How many are there?” she asked.

“That sounds like a good question for your notebook,” her mother said.

 

* * *

 

 **Data:** 47 stars (Lucca) 15 stars (Dad) 98 stars (Mom)

 **Suggestions for Improvement:** Get more people. (Lucca) Everyone counts stars in a different part of the sky, so you know you aren’t counting the same stars. (Dad)

 **What I learned From This Experiment:** There are too many stars to count by yourself!


	2. July 3, 990 AD

Her stomach was growling long before the sun went down, but Lucca waited until she couldn’t see the crack of light under her parents’ bedroom door before she slipped downstairs to the kitchen.  She made her way down the stairs in the dark warily, clutching the railing as she sought the next step with her foot. The wood steps were smooth under her bare feet, and the humidity made her skin stick slightly.

She left the kitchen light off to be safe. There was enough light shining in from the outside houselights to find the fridge and the cupboards. Lucca had to put her bowl down on the floor and pour milk in her cereal by the light from the refrigerator’s interior so she wouldn’t spill.

She _did_ spill when she got to the table, and realized with a shriek that _someone else_ was already sitting there.

“It’s okay, Lucca! It’s me! It’s Mommy!” And it was her mother’s voice, floating thinly to her through the dark.

With shaking, milk-dripping hands Lucca switched on the light and stared at her mother, who was sitting in a chair, tucked up against the table. “Mommy? What are you doing here? The doctor said...” The doctor had said a _lot_ of things, about what she should be doing right now so she’d get better quicker… and what she would never be able to do again. Lucca flinched at the thought, casting her eyes to the ground.

“I know what he said,” her mother said evenly. “But I wanted to talk to you. I’ve been waiting since you missed dinner. I knew you’d get hungry eventually. Your Dad and I were worried, you know.”

“I hate Dad! I hate him and his stupid machines!” Lucca stamped her foot. “It’s all _his_ fault.”

Her mother sighed. “Oh, Lucca, sweetie, please don’t be angry at Dad. It was an accident.” She sounded tired. “If anything it was my own fault, for not making sure the machine was unplugged--”

“No! It’s his fault! It _is_ ,” Lucca insisted. “And the machines! I hate machines, they’re terrible, they hurt people, the don’t do any _good,_ they-”

To Lucca’s surprise, her mother pushed herself backwards from the table, the chair moving with her. As Lucca watched, her mother pushed and pulled herself along the table, seeming to glide. Only when she came around to the same side as Lucca could the girl see what was happening -- there were small wheels on the bottom of each leg of the chair.

Her mother smiled wryly. “What are the simple machines, Lucca?”

“What? Uh… they’re, um, lever, wedge, screw, uh, inclined plane, pulley…”

“And wheel and axle,” her mother finished, and gestured down. “I had your dad fix this up for me. It doesn’t work very well, and it can’t do stairs at all, but it’s better than nothing.”

Lucca stared at the wheels at the bottom of the chair, but then her eyes were drawn to the horrible white bandaged shapes hanging reproachfully below her mother’s skirt, and she couldn’t look away. “I’m sorry!” she blurted out, starting to cry. Her hands were still covered with milk and bits of wet cereal, so she couldn’t even cover her face. “I’m sorry, Mommy, it’s really my fault, I didn’t know how the machine worked…”  Her vision blurred.

A moment later her mother’s arms were around her. Lara smelled like the doctor had -- of antiseptics and iodine -- but underneath it she also smelled like Mommy. Lucca hugged her mother back, heedless of her dirty hands, and cried until her chest hurt and her breathing went all funny and hiccoughy. Her mother’s gentle murmurs never stopped, and her arms never let Lucca go.

“Better?” Mommy asked, when Lucca had run out of tears and was trying to breathe again.

“Y-yeah.” Lucca sniffed, tried to wipe her nose with her hand, and stopped. “Urrgh, it’s sticky…”

“Go wash up, I’ll stay here,” her mother suggested.

Lucca washed her hands carefully, scrubbing hard with the slippery sliver of soap. Then she tried to wash the spots of milk the front of her night-gown, but mostly all that happened was she got the whole front wet.

After cleaning up the rest of the spilled cereal and pouring herself another bowl, Lucca sat with her mother at the kitchen table. It was weird to be up so late at night, eating cereal in her pajamas, but it also felt normal, talking with her mother about how she wanted to go hiking in the mountains where Chrono got to go _all the time_ , and could they have a campfire and roast marshmallows next time Chrono came for a sleepover? Also Chrono didn’t believe her about the Pole Star, how did it know which way was north? Lucca even forgot about the accident until they went up to bed, and Dad had to come down and carry Mommy up the stairs.

There had to be a better way. Lucca frowned, thinking hard, as she climbed the stairs to her own bedroom.

* * *

 

“A flying chair?” her mother asked, over breakfast.

Lucca nodded furiously. “I was thinking, if we get a lot of helium balloons...”

Her parents exchanged glances.

“I think we’d better start small and scale up,” her father said, just as her mother said, “I volunteer Mr. Teddybear to be the first test pilot.”

 

* * *

 **Data:** 15 helium balloons were needed to lift my teddy bear, who weighs ½ pounds.

 **Outcomes:** Mommy weighs 160 pounds. It would take 30 x 160 = 4800 balloons to lift Mommy!

 **Explanation of Errors:** I did not know how heavy people are.

 **Suggestions for Improvement:** Find another way to make a chair fly other than balloons.

 **What I learned From This Experiment:** Don’t do experiments with helium balloons outside or you will lose a lot of them by accident!

 


	3. April 23, 993 AD

“Okay, now just hold still,” Lucca told her friend confidently as she checked the wires around his wrists were secure. “If the wires come off during then the whole thing will be invalidated.” Invalidated was one of her words for the week. Invalidated experimental results had to be thrown out, her mother had explained. Even if they supported your hypothesis. Especially if they supported it, Dad said. It was better to have no data than bad data.

“Will this hurt?” the red-headed boy asked, looking at the copper linking his wrists to the apparatus on the table. It was the third time he’d asked it today.

Lucca pushed her lab goggles back up her face and frowned at him. It was hard to get them to stay on, but she figured she’d grow into them soon. She was almost nine, after all. “‘Course not. It’s just electricity.” She crossed the room to where she had connected the circuit to a switch, beside a large battery and a lightbulb.

“Are you _sure_?”

“Yeah, of course. Well, probably,” she hedged, fingering the plastic knob on the switch. “I mean… look, do you want to find out the electrical capacitance of a human or not?”

“I don’t know, what’s that mean?”

“What’s electrical capacitance?” Lucca blinked at him. “You don’t know?”This was the problem with using Chrono as an experimental subject. He spent all his time asking silly questions like “will this hurt?” and “what do you mean, duck?”, and never really seemed to care about the purpose of the experiment. She’d tried to get him to at least read the procedures in her lab notebook this time, but he’d complained that he couldn’t read her handwriting.

 Chrono shook his head.

 Lucca sighed heavily and lifted her hand off the switch. She’d probably have to start from the basics for this one. “You know about electrons, right? If you get a bunch of electrons in one place, it gives something an electric charge--”

 She had just gotten to explaining series and parallel circuits when her father came in.

 

* * *

 

 

 **Data:** Dad made me take the wires off Chrono so I never got any.

 **Outcomes:** Chrono got oatmeal cookies and lemonade. I got grounded.

 **Explanation of Errors:** I should have made sure Chrono knew about circuits before we started so I didn’t have to explain during the Experiment.

 **Suggestions for Improvement:** Use a capacitance meter and ask a grown-up for help. (Mom). Chocolate-chip cookies (Chrono).

 **What I learned From This Experiment:** I need to get permission to use human subjects from the IRB.  (Dad didn’t say what the IRB was)


	4. Millenial Fair, 1000 AD

“Have you decided what you’re going to demonstrate at the Millennial Fair?” Lara asked over breakfast. “The singing robot, maybe?”

“Gato’s pretty cool, but I don’t know, he’s maybe a little boring?” Lucca frowned at her cornflakes. “I mean, he sings, carries the laundry, and fights, but that’s all pre-programmed. He can’t actually _think_.” She sighed and took a large spoonful of cereal, chewing reflectively. Artificial intelligence was _way_ harder than she’d expected it would be.

“How about the Telepod?” Taban asked. “We could get some actual human test subjects.”

Lara nodded. “That would probably be a good idea. What do you think, Lucca?”

“Yrr!” Lucca said around the cornflakes, then hurried to clear her mouth. “I mean yeah. That’d be great.” She glanced at her mother. “You want to come too, see it in action, Mom? The Telepod was your idea in the first place.”

Lara shook her head. “The fair’s at Leene Square. I haven’t been there in forever, but I remember it’s full of stairs.”

“Oh. Right. Bummer.” Lucca shoved another spoonful of cereal into her mouth hastily, like she was hungry and not horribly embarrassed at her oversight. A scientist was supposed to be able to be observant and make connections.

“Speaking of projects, though…” Lara folded her arms and looked levelly at her husband and daughter, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “After the fair, the next big project around here is to _clean up_ this pigsty. There’s barely enough clearance under my chair to get over the cords and things.”

“I keep telling you, we can change the settings so it hovers a little higher…”

Lara rolled her eyes at Taban. “And _I_ keep telling you that makes it unstable, dear. I'm not risking a spill.”

“All right, we’ll clean up after the fair,” he conceded. “And… Lucca, you’ll help me demo the Telepod at the Fair?” He looked hopefully at his daughter.

“Of course!” She adjusted her glasses. “Like you said, we need test subjects, right? It’ll be a great step forward in our research.”

 

* * *

 

 **Data** :So much! See attached.

 **Outcomes:** The telepod’s maiden voyage was a success with Chrono. But I think I just teleported Princess Nadia off into another dimension, or possibly the past. Or the past of an alternate dimension.

 **Explanation of Errors:** Subject’s pendant reacted to the Telepod’s warp field, creating a feedback loop in the kinetiflex energy core and ripping a tear in the fabric of space and time. This is amazing! If I can replicate this….

 **Suggestions for Improvement:** Consider trading the copper linkages in the hemispacial matrix for steel, I don’t like the way these discolor after repeated use. Have subjects remove jewelry before energizing the Telepod.

 **What I learned From This Experiment:** Time or interdimensional travel is possible!!!!


	5. Unknown day, unknown month, unknown year

 None of them were exactly happy, having fled the palace and woken up in an unknown time and place. The building had smelled of old exhaust and rusty metal, and as they made their way out Lucca had to remind herself more than once that just because blood had iron in it, that didn’t mean it was what she was smelling. Besides, it looked like the place had been abandoned so long that anything organic would’ve rotted away ages ago.

 That was not a particularly reassuring thought, she realized, and was glad that for once she hadn’t thought to share her brilliance with her friends.

 Chrono was quiet -- well, he’d always been pretty quiet -- but Marle was, too, and that was worrying. The princess was a chatterbox, something Lucca appreciated. It was all well and good to have an audience for her own brilliance, but it was better to have someone who could fill in the spaces when your mouth went dry or just didn’t feel like talking yourself. And Marle asked _questions_. About Lucca’s research, about science, even just about Lucca herself, and her life with her parents on their island.

It had been… kind of nice, in a strange way, to talk about herself instead of science for a change.

“I can’t find it.”

That was from Chrono. Lucca’s head whipped towards him, and she felt the breeze as Marle’s ponytail swung around beside her.

“What can’t you find?” Marle asked, worried.

Chrono pointed upwards. “The north star’s not there.”

Lucca looked. There was a haze of brown shifting clouds obscuring the sky at intervals, including the Great Bear. But the Little Bear, that trusty friend her parents had taught her to recognize, was clear… except for the tip of its tail.

What should’ve been the constellation’s brightest star was gone.

“Supernova. Or Nova,” Lucca said without thinking. She couldn’t remember the Pole star’s classification, or she’d know which.

“That sounds like science,” Marle said, sounding hopeful. “Is that a kind of star that, uh, moves around, maybe?”

Lucca shook her head. “It’s what happens to stars -- some of ‘em -- when they reach the end of their life.”

Marle went pale. “You mean the star _died_? That can’t be a good sign.” She hugged herself, and Lucca saw that she shivered slightly. “I didn’t know stars could actually die…well, besides shooting stars. What is this place.”

Chrono didn’t say anything, just kept staring up at the awful empty space where the familiar guidepost should have been. His jaw was set, but his expression was bleak.

Lucca took a deep breath. She had enough data now, she thought, to say this with some confidence. “I’m pretty sure we’re in the future. Far in the future.”

 

* * *

 

 **Data:** Observed absence of: Pole star, Epsilon in the Dolphinrider. Possibly others?

 

**Outcomes:**

 

**Explanation of Errors:**

**Suggestions for Improvement:**

 

 **What I learned From This Experiment:** Time travel is not all fun and games.


	6. Summer, 65,000,000 BC

“Star light, star bright...”

Lucca looked up from cleaning her newest firearm for the owner of the voice. Marle stood a little ways away from the campfire, hands clasped loosely behind her back as she turned her face towards the darkening sky. She continued the rhyme, only half-audible.

Something about the wistfulness of the girl’s voice tugged at Lucca. She set her gun down on the oilcloth carefully, then climbed to her feet and walked up to her friend’s side. “Wishing on a star?”

Marle shrugged. “Yeah. I know you probably think it’s silly, stars can’t grant wishes, they’re giant balls of fire or whatever…”

“Nah, it’s not silly.” Lucca came to stand beside her friend. “Although I hope you weren’t wishing on _that_.” She pointed at the red light low on the horizon. “Something so bright this early at night’s probably a planet. Although it’s so red, I’m not sure which one it would be…”

“That red star? Oh, no, Ayla said that one’s bad luck. Frog, too. Well, actually, he called it ‘an unsettling omen’ or something, but I figured he meant the same thing.” Marle bit her lip. “Lucca, is this _really_ our world? At least when we went to the future we could find our constellations, even if some of the stars were missing. But everything here seems completely different.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s not anything to worry about,” Lucca said. “It’s a simple side-effect of galactic rotation. And I suppose to a small extent the precession of the Earth’s axis, although given how far back in the past we are that effect’s going to be negligible compared to-”

“In English?” Marle’s voice was plaintive.

Lucca smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Just as the Earth goes around the sun, the sun goes around the center of our galaxy. It takes a lot longer, hundreds of millions of years. But we’re back sixty-five million years, so everything’s moved quite a bit. And some of the stars we see are actually galaxies themselves, so they’ll be moving in even a different pattern.” She bit her thumbnail thoughtfully. “I wonder if that’s how the Epoch determines the era we’re in, tracking the stars and how they’ve changed? Or maybe something to do with analyzing the sun’s emission spectrum -- I mean the kind of light it gives off. I’ve been wondering about it.”

Marle shook her head. “You’re really amazing, Lucca. I never even thought to wonder how the Epoch knew what time we’re in. Guess I’m just used to having everything handed to me on a silver platter.”

“Of course I’m amazing! I’m a genius!” Lucca grinned, but Marle started to turn away. Oh, dang, she’d forgotten how insecure Marle could be about the whole Princess-background-thing sometimes. “Hey, wait, Marle!” She caught her friend by the arm. “Want to make a star chart of this sky?”

“A star chart?” Marle blinked at her. “Lucca, do you have any idea how many stars there are? Marking them all down would take all night.”

“Thousands, just to the unaided eye,” Lucca said, smiling the memory. “And our eyes would get tired. That’s why we’re going to enlist someone who doesn’t have that problem.”

They found Robo standing beneath a tree, in standby mode from what Lucca could tell of the dulled glow of his eyes. She rapped her knuckles on his shoulder. “Hey, Robo, wake up!”

His eyes brightened after half a second’s pause. “Yes, Mistress Lucca?”

“I need you to chart the stars. You’ve got that capability, right?”

Robo nodded, a motion that had looked so rigid when Lucca first met him but seemed far less mechanical now. Was he learning from watching humans, or was she just used to him? “My optical receptors can detect light from the ultraviolet through infrared range and with apparent magnitude through eight.”

Lucca adjusted her glasses thoughtfully. “Remind me again, what magnitudes are visible through the naked eye? Six and a half or so? Just those. I want the sky as we can see it.”

Robo nodded. “Very well. Commence scanning…” His head began to swivel, slowly but evenly, on the pivot of his neck.

Lucca jigged in place impatiently as Robo’s head made its sweep of the sky. Marle did, too, but eventually wandered off with a whispered “let me know when he’s done”, as if speech might distract a robot the way it would a human.

For a while Lucca watched Robo’s turning head, impressed with the steadiness of the motion -- she’d have to take another look at the motors in his neck

“Scan complete. Processing… processing… processing completed. Preparing to print… Printer error. Out of paper.”

Ordinarily this would’ve been disappointing to hear, but Lucca just stared at her friend. “You have a printer in there? How come I never saw it when I was fixing you up?”

It should not have been possible for a robot to look sheepish, but something about the way Robo held his shoulders and turned his head nevertheless conveyed it. “It was a joke. I do not have a printer. I can interface with an external printer, or, if you provide me with paper and pen I can produce the image manually.”

Lucca whistled and shook her head in amazement. “Dang. You’re just full of surprises, Robo. Well, maybe after we get some red stone and head back ho- to the pres- to my time, we’ll find something you can hook up with and get those pictures printed.”

“Hey, Lucca, is Robo done?” Marle called through the darkness. “I explained constellations to Ayla and she wants to tell us about some of theirs!”

Robot and human exchanged glances. “C’mon, let’s go soak up the local culture,” Lucca said, and gently slapped her friend on the back.


	7. August 15, 1001 AD

 

The door -- the one to her balcony, not the one to the stairs -- flew open. Startled, Lucca jumped half out of her seat, knocking everything off her desk.

“Lucca! It’s a beautiful day and you are _not_ going to spend it all inside reading!” Marle told her, hands on hips. Chrono noded in fervent agreement.

“That Telepod’s for my _mom_ ,” Lucca grumbled, kneeling to retrieve the scattered pieces of paper from the floor. Admittedly, she also used it to transport her laundry downstairs, and herself when she was feeling especially lazy, but admitting that would mean ceding moral ground. “Also, you could have knocked.”

“We did. You were just lost in thought and didn’t hear us.” Marle bent to help. “Hey, what’s this you were looking at? Printouts, like they had in 2300 AD.” She fingered the page, smoother and whiter than anything Guardia had in the present. “Except they’re just a bunch of dots.”

Chrono picked one up and studied it. “Not dots. These are star charts.” He tapped the one he was holding. “I recognize the Big Bear and Little Bear. But…. the north star is missing.” He raised an eyebrow.

Lucca rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah. Back when we were trying to figure out how to stop Lavos, I had Robo map all the stars for me, at all the different times. I should’ve gotten more specific data on at least some of them -- the spectra of some of the stars, or at least noted down which were actually nebulae or galaxies. I didn’t think of it.”

“So how about we go ask him to? Chrono was saying, we haven’t seen Ayla or the rest in a while. Not since we brought back his cat. The second time, I mean.” She elbowed him.

Chrono looked peeved. “It’s not my fault my cat keeps finding new Gates. And why was there one under the kitchen sink?”

“Well, there was the one that opened into someone’s kitchen cupboard in Media, so-”

“Uh….” Lucca cleared her throat. “I’d really - really - love to hop in the Epoch and go on a quick jaunt to the future. But there’s… complications.” She shuffled her papers and adjusted her glasses.

“What kind of complications?” Chrono asked suspiciously.

Lucca reordered her star-charts in chronological order and set them on the desk before she answered. “Well, the Epoch, er… it’s kind of halfways disassembled right now. But don’t worry, I can fix it! It will just take a while.”

“You took our time machine _apart?_ ” Marle demanded. “Lucca… that’s our only way to see our friends! It belongs to all of us! How could you do such a thing without asking?”

“It was going to be a surprise…” Lucca mumbled. “I didn’t think it would take me this long! I thought I’d have everything ready before either of you thought to ask.”

Marle folded her arms. “Have _what_ ready?”

“Oh, didn’t I say? I’m upgrading the Epoch.”  Lucca made herself grin, and felt better just for doing that. “See, we’ve been all around the world… we’ve seen the past, the present, and the future… but there’s one place we haven’t gone yet!”

“And… where’s that?” Marle asked.

Lucca smiled her widest and thrust a pointing finger at her pile of star-charts. “Here!”

Chrono peered at the page. “To your desk?” he asked.

“No, to the _stars_.” Lucca huffed. “The moon! Other planets! _Space!_ It’s the last frontier! And we’re going to be the pioneers!”

“Is this going to hurt?” Chrono wanted to know.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sincere thanks to Lirillith for beta-reading, including feedback at the 11th hour despite her own looming deadlines!
> 
> I also am grateful to surskitty, for an incredibly valuable brainstorming session about Lara, for suggesting the hover chair, and overall for helping me find a respectful (and hopefully problematic-trope-free) way to write about Lara. Anything I've done wrong is my fault, and constructive criticism would be welcome.


End file.
